


freefall

by redlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crushes, Experimental Style, F/M, Feelings, Friendship, Langst, Lovesickness, M/M, Metaphors, Multi, Pining, Pining Lance (Voltron), Polyamorous Character, Pre-s3, Stream of Consciousness, half-hearted attempts at physics analogies, lance is in love with everyone what else is new, population one langst mcpain, welcome to "i have a crush on all my friends and hate myself for it" town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: Lance may or may not be madly and irreparably andpossiblyunhealthily in love with the other Paladins. It's debatable. Seriously.Or, Lance is caught in a situation where gravity is the only force acting upon him, and he's kind of a mess about it.





	freefall

**Author's Note:**

> school starts tomorrow help me

It always feels like he’s _buried alive_ , or _entangled in vines_ , or _dying in a desert_ , or _stripped of gravity_ ; unfortunately, Lance never feels like he’s drowning.

Which, y’know, would be convenient, considering the whole _G_ _uardian of Water_ thing.

Okay, maybe that's _why_ he never feels like drowning, though. _Whatever_.

As for the dirt/desert/vines/gravity thing, uh, maybe that's just a Voltron thing –

– but seriously, whatever.

The fact of the matter is, Lance falls, and he falls often, and if left to plummet for too long, he falls _hard_. Like, hard enough to bruise his knees, hard enough to twist his ankles, scrape his palms on the filthy metaphorical asphalt, all that bullshit.

It's not really fun, but, well, he does it, and he does it a lot.

It's not like he can really _help_ the way his stomach buzzes with fluttery insects when Nyma had given him that little giggle and flirtatious tone of voice, even if she _did_ leave him cuffed to a space tree. Lance can't help the flush that warms his skin, whether it's an alien girl with a bright smile and a _thank you, dear paladins of Voltron_ or that one guy from the Garrison who raised his dilated green eyes up and down at Lance like _hey, wanna go out into town?_

Which Lance never said yes to, but, _still_. His fluster got the best of him.

Maybe it's worse because he's been stuck with same people, out in the confines of isolated open space, for _months_.

Lance is used to feeling a little lovesick after _five minutes_ of talking to someone; doing this for _months_ is starting to fuck him up.

He falls in love easy – _infatuation_ , yeah, but doesn't all love start with limerence?

Doesn't all love start with _heartbeat-beat-beat, it's going too fast, get me an ambu lance, am I right?_

 _Beat-beat-beat_ , heart-race-fast-pace, this is how his body reacts when he’s faced with:

 **a)** Hunk’s hugs

> ( – because Hunk is a physical person, physical affection. Tight embraces and warm hands and he's strong enough to lift Lance up, probably, it’s just that he’s never tried to, but _oh, god,_ does Lance want him to.
> 
> Hunk is soft and warm but he’s tough, too, the firm grounding force in Lance’s shaky, spiraling mess of a world. Hunk is smart and soothing and god, he backseat-panics all the _time_ , like, _c’mon Lance, let’s just make it through this mission without you getting hurt, okay?_
> 
> And yeah, Lance gets injured a lot, but Hunk’s worry hurts more than broken bones and bloodied bruises, and sometimes Lance just wants to lace his fingers through Hunk’s soft thick hair, try to soothe _him_ for once, ‘cause Hunk is _good_ to him, too good, and Lance is a little selfish, while Hunk is _Hunk_ , Hunk is Lance’s _best friend_ – )

( – _Lance never stood a chance,_ _not with how fluid and fragile his heart is –_ )

 **b)** that grumble under Pidge’s breath, the dark circles under her auburn eyelashes

> ( – the sassy comments that she spits out with a joking tilt of the head, the forest fire in her eyes when she’s grinning and excited. The low-voiced late-night conversations about things that are a little too personal to think about during the daytime rotations.
> 
> The awkward pat on the back she gives Lance after he’s done holding back his sobs and burying his face in his knees, _hey, hey, I'm getting my family back and your family’s getting you back, c’mon Lance, it's okay if you need to cry sometimes_ –
> 
> – and the soothing feel of her hand as he clutches it a bit too tightly. Awkward, pretty, reassuring smile, _wanna help me fix up the castle’s radio systems to see if we can get any alien channels?_ )

( – _Lance never stood a chance,_ _not with how easy it is to slip into a freefall –_ )

 **c)** Keith’s stupid grin 

> (Keith’s stupid _everything_ , Keith’s stupid recklessness, Keith snorting under his breath as he corrects Lance’s fighting stance like _listen, you’re a sniper, I get that, but throw a decent punch for me, ‘kay?_
> 
> Keith shifting from being surly and aggravated to teasing and _smirking_ , and _god_ , that smirk sets Lance’s skin afire – irritating and hot and feisty and clawing inside his veins, constantly on backflow to his heart in a rush of heat. It’s _Keith_ , it’s _stupid perfect_ Keith, straight As and flawless combatist and _better than Lance_ , except –
> 
> – except Keith is irrational and unthinking, too, and sometimes he needs to grasp at the fragile inside of Lance’s wrist during a mission, and he says, _listen, I need you to keep me from doing anything stupid, got it, sharpshooter?_ )

( – _Lance never stood a goddamn_ _ **chance**_ ,  _and there’s no way he can ever claw himself back up to the surface –_ )

 **d)** the way Shiro’s pale lips purse in worry 

> ( – the way Shiro’s prosthetic hand shakes sometimes despite its robotic structure, the nervous, weak smile he gets when he’s awake during the sleep rotation when their sleep rotation is short enough as it is – when he brushes off Lance voicing his concern, _really, Lance, I'm fine, please don’t worry about it, not when we have more important things to think about_ –
> 
> Except, by this point, Lance is too shaky to decide whether he’d like to vomit on Shiro’s shoes or clock Shiro right in his pretty, perfectly-eyelined face, because they’re _no way_ Shiro’s health isn’t as important as everything else.
> 
> There's no way Lance can’t worry when Shiro’s eyes grow darker from exhaustion and his smile gets shakier and shakier and all Lance can think of doing is giving the poor man – _really not that much older than them, Shiro’s barely a goddamn adult –_ a hug. A good hug, a hug like Hunk can give, except Lance is too skinny and kind of jittery, but, but – _still_.)

( – _Lance just falls, falls, keeps falling,_ _‘cause there’s no use fighting gravity, is there?_ )

One heartbeat per option, _ba-thump_ for yellow, green, red, black, and if he can't choose, then his heart can't _pump_. But Lance is shit at multiple choice, and he can’t figure out what the real answer is.

(Seriously, where’s the _**all of the above**_ option?)

So here’s the thing; Lance wanted to be in the air ever since he was seven years old and he stole his big sister’s oversized fighter pilot jacket. Ever since he was eleven and got so _enraptured-encaptured-enamored_ with the look of stars reflected in the ocean he grew up beside, that he nearly _cried_ when he couldn’t touch them. Ever since he was seventeen and unimpressive but still got accepted into that prestigious space academy by what must’ve been pure goddamn _luck_ – even if he was only accepted into the cargo pilot class.

Lance wanted to fly for a long, long time.

It kinda sucks, that all he’s good for is free-falling.

**Author's Note:**

> have you ever had a crush on three of your friends at the same time
> 
> ...hahaha...ahahahaha...
> 
> the projection is real. sorry lance;;
> 
> anyway hi yes plz talk to my on [twitter](https://twitter.com/REDSPACELIGHTS) bc i really want friends


End file.
